Remember Me

I would rather you remember me as I was. Before.

Shining beautiful, tingling with desire, crying easily, talking and stepping too loud. Embarrassing, but funny…or so I thought. Remember me pinching your armpit where my head, tucked, was always the coziest, making you wriggle, squeeze tears and snort laughter. Remember me snuggled up tight with our babies, snoring and stealing your covers… with one eye open.

Forget this exhausted shrunken husk, dehydrating in the late summer air, begrudgingly giving feed to the tumor that used to nip and graze sometime, but has finally settled in for the long banquet.

So that when my soul, afire, spills open into the autumn wind, coating golden spinning leaves…and you…and them, you can shake me loose and dust me off. And help the kids do that too.

And remember me as I was. Before.